It single-handedly legitimized the "games as art" movement nearly 20 years ago. It was the postmodern twist we never saw coming. Well, let me know.

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Well, it was an interesting piece of humor, though its placement seemed random and arbitrary. You've knocked off 7 of K. Rool's hits, then this kredits thing, and then you've got 3 more. Why not 9 and then 1, or 5 and then 6. Or, better yet, a really misleadingly easy battle, something like 3 then 7.

Listing the Krocs as the krew is also kind of a giveaway that it's not the real credits. So K. Rool's sudden rise back up isn't so shocking.

It single-handedly legitimized the "games as art" movement nearly 20 years ago. It was the postmodern twist we never saw coming. Well, let me know.

Click to expand...

Well, it was an interesting piece of humor, though its placement seemed random and arbitrary. You've knocked off 7 of K. Rool's hits, then this kredits thing, and then you've got 3 more. Why not 9 and then 1, or 5 and then 6. Or, better yet, a really misleadingly easy battle, something like 3 then 7.

Listing the Krocs as the krew is also kind of a giveaway that it's not the real credits. So K. Rool's sudden rise back up isn't so shocking.

The most powerful piece of metafictional writing is clearly the first piece of credits in another Rare classic, Banjo-Kazooie. While it is fairly predictable that it is not truly the end of the game, it nonetheless succeeds in capturing a satisfying sense of triumph after the spectacular quiz game Grunty's Furnace Fun thrillingly climaxes the 11 worlds of adventuring. The mixture of in-game characters uttering the names of the game's developers gives a cinematic tone to the credits, as though you are watching the unveiled cast of a film's end credits sequence, and it also fulfills metafiction to the maximum possible potential that doesn't cross over the line into become too overbearingly involved in the game.

The sudden jerk back into the adventure thereafter across the empty quiz room up to the top of the tower reminds the player that he has completed the game's adventure, triumphantly having laid destruction to the enemy base and having seen the conclusive credits sequence, and that combined with the foreboding music in the climb up the tower captures the sense that the final battle ahead is no video game but is, in fact, real Armageddon. Therefore, the metafictional credits sequence has helped to raise the tonal stakes of the true showdown with Gruntilda.